Too soon, we part for breath, and she looks around. I’m panting, light-headed, but who needs oxygen when Lor is an option?
“Not here,” she says, and I let out the saddest whimper I’ve ever heard.
I’m not even ashamed, because it makes Lor smile again. She pats my cheek, then turns and swipes up her bag before sauntering back toward the corn. My eyes are glued to her ass, so perky and round in those tight black pants. I should have grabbed it while I had the chance.
My mind flies into overdrive as I picture it. How her cheeks would fill my palms, if her skin is as soft there as it is at her waist. I don’t realize she’s stopped walking until she snaps her fingers.
My gaze flashes to her face and she has one eyebrow raised. I grin and shrug.
“You’ve got an incredible ass.”
She huffs, then keeps walking, calling out as she steps into the corn. “You coming?”
“Not yet,” I say, then laugh to myself.
Hopefully soon.
Lor isfidgety when we get back to her place. I haven’t known her to be so restless before. Normally, I’m the one who can’t sit still, too full of energy. She sets her bag on the counter in the kitchen, but then keeps glancing at it like she’s worried it’ll disappear. The mood from earlier is over, obviously, and I’m curious where her mind has gone.
I flop onto her couch, and she eventually sits in the armchair near me, bringing the bag of dirt with her, and carefully placing it out of sight next to her chair. Despite having settled, she seems skittish still, like a deer ready to run at the slightest hint of danger.
I scoot to the edge of the couch and lean forward to place a hand on her arm, gentle so she can easily pull away if she wants, but with enough pressure for her to know I’m serious.
“Lor, what’s going on?” I ask. When she doesn’t reply, but glances at her bag, I continue. “Why were we really out there?”
She doesn’t answer, instead looking down at her hands where her fingers are wringing together, knuckles white with tension. The fact she’s still sitting here, hasn’t run away or kicked me out, is significant. Her eyes keep flicking to the side of her chair and then back to her lap.
“It wasn’t aliens, was it?” I try to lighten my tone, but she doesn’t smile like I hope she will.
Lor sucks in a deep breath, her entire body expanding with it, then raises her grey eyes to mine. She stares into me, and I wish I knew what she was looking for. Whatever it is, I’ll give it to her. I’d give her anything, do anything, if only she would trust me and let me in. She gives an almost imperceptible nod as she lets out the long breath she took.
“What did you see in my grandmother’s journal?”
I blink in surprise. That was not what I was expecting her to say.
“Uh, nothing?”
Her walls immediately start to go up again, her eyes going distant and shoulders tensing.
“I mean, I saw writing,” I hurry to say, and her defenses seem to pause. “But I didn’t make out any of the words. I wasn’t really focused on it, just kind of… idly flipping through? Being nosy, I guess, but without the concentration to take anything in. I don’t know. Why?”
Her gaze pierces me again, eyes wary, and it’s all I can do not to shrink away from that hard stare. I want to prove myself to her though, so I meet her eyes and will her to understand that I’m an open book for her.
Anything she wants, it’s hers.
Whatever she’s looking for, she must find it, and I relax as she sits back in her seat. When she speaks, her voice is soft.
“My grandmother was a star-chaser,” she says.
It takes a moment to settle into my brain what those words mean. Then a shiver runs down my back and the baby hairs on my arms stand on end.
“You mean like… the mythical star-chasers?”
Lor nods, biting her lip, and I stay quiet. I’m not sure what to say to that, and I don’t want to say the wrong thing.
“Yeah, except, we’re not myths.”
Again, it takes a moment to register.We.
